White Teeth Teens
by Streaks of Hail
Summary: It's another year at Hogwarts for golden girl Victoire Weasley. Exams, friend dillemas and late-night escapades with lovers - all in a day's work. Victoire's got her whole life sorted out. Then, there's Teddy Lupin.
1. Piggybacks & Sorting Hats

**A/N:** So, here's a new story of mine! It's actually the first Harry Potter fic I've ever written, so I'm very excited. I've got no clue how frequent updates will be, but I'm already in love with writing this world and getting into the heads of these characters, so we'll have to see!

* * *

 _ **WHITE TEETH TEENS  
**_ (piggybacks & sorting hats) ** _  
_**

 _Sunday, September 1st, 2016  
_ _Victoire Weasley_

 _Ow! James, you stepped on my foot!"_

 _"Oh, honestly Ronald, just put the wretched owl by the bags."_

 _"Why can't I go to Hogwarts yet, Mum? Fred's started this year - why can't I? James keeps making fun of me because I've never seen the Hogwarts castle, and Albus gets to start next year. I saw him looking at wands in Diagon Alley!"_

Yes, it was official. The Weasley-Potter Clan were gathered at Kings Cross Station, Platform 9 3/4, all ready to see their children off for another exciting year of Hogwarts. To say it was havoc was a major understatement, really.

Parents bustled around the Platform, searching for lost pets, checking the luggage one last time, and kissing their children goodbye. For the Weasleys in particular, it was loud, it was noisy, and it was _busy_. Uncle Harry was helping James fit his new broom (a limited edition Krum 2.0, especially signed by the man himself - his cousins were _so_ jealous) into his bag with a simple spell that was proving to be rather difficult, and Aunt Ginny was attempting to soothe an impatient Lily Potter. Grandma Molly was attempting to dry her eyes as she showered her grandchildren Fred and Lucy with kisses and assurances for their first year at Hogwarts; Grandpa Arthur settled for patting his wife awkwardly on the back and telling the eleven year olds to do all their homework.

Albus, Rose, Hugo and Roxanne had gathered in the corner, all clearly upset at the fact that their older family members got to attend Hogwarts and they didn't, much to their disappoint - Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione had come simply to see the older kids off. Meanwhile, Uncle Percy fixed his eldest daughter Molly's prefect badge with a proud smile. Dominique was already engaged right in the middle of a heated conversation of Quidditch with James and Uncle Harry, and Louis was goodness knows where, off and talking to the various friends he had made last year.

Then, there was Victoire Weasley. Blonde, blue-eyed and part Veela, it was safe to aay she stuck out like a sore thumb in the Weasley-Potter family. Her younger brother Louis possessed somewhat of the same looks, but his easy-going nature and ability to make friends allowed him to fit in easily.

Still, Victoire wasn't going to complain. She would rather be a Weasley kid than any other in the world, and that was never going to change, no matter _how_ bothersome the Clan could be when gathered together.

"Victoire!" Fleur called, weaving through a large crowd of excited children and parents with (un)surprising grace. " _Est-ce que tu n'as rien oublié?_ "

" _Yes_ , Maman," Victoire assured, trying not to roll her eyes at her mother. She loved her, but it seemed like this was the eighth time that Fleur had asked whether Victoire had packed everything. For some reason, she seemed to believe that Victoire would forget her own head if it wasn't attached already, which was ridiculous, considering that Victoire was perhaps a little too obsessive over keeping things neat and tidy. "You'd be better off checking with Dominique. _Elle est plus oublieux que i._ "

Fleur seemed to agree, because she kissed her daughter on the forehead and then took off, shouting rapid French at her other child.

" _Bonjour, Mademoiselle._ "

Victoire shrieked in sudden surprise as a voice sounded from behind her. She whirled, a hand flying to her wand instinctively. Instead of somebody dangerous, however, she was met with a mop of bright blue hair and sparkling brown eyes.

"Teddy Lupin," she huffed angrily, ditching her wand to shove the older boy hard in the chest. "Your accent is atrocious."

Teddy doubled over in laughter, eyes dancing in mirth. "I wouldn't speak so quickly. _You_ were the one who taught me, remember?" He stood back up, wiping away imaginary tears. "Ah, you should have seen your face. That was fantastic."

Victoire fought the urge to stick her tongue out childishly at him, but secretly, she was trying to fend off a smile too. Not that she'd ever let Teddy know that, of course. She'd never hear the end of it. "I hate you."

"No you don't," Teddy grinned. "You can't. I'm practically a Weasley, see?" As if to prove it, his hair turned a vibrant shade of classic Weasley ginger.

Victoire rolled her eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She wasn't entirely sure why, but imagining Teddy as a Weasley... well, that was simply weird. It was irrational, because Teddy had been with the family for as long as anybody could remember. Technically, he should count as part of the family, right? Everybody loved him. He never missed a birthday, or a Christmas, and he was around at Harry and Ginny's every other day anyway. Did that make him an official Weasley?

And why did it bother her so?

Before she could reply with something witty, a tiny figure blurred past and barrelled into Teddy. Lily Luna Potter clung tightly to the older boy, her vibrant red hair a stark contrast next to the light blue wash of his ragged, overworn jeans.

"Teddy! Don't go! I'll miss you! Fred and Lucy are going and it's still not my turn yet! At this rate, I'm going to be the last to ever go to Hogwarts," blurted Lily, pouting as she hugged Teddy as tightly as she could manage.

At this sight, Victoire really couldn't help but smile. Dumbledore knows why, but for some reason Lily had grown attached to the only Lupin child ever since she was old enough to walk. When Lily was only about four or five years old, she used to constantly follow Teddy around like an adoring fan, or a lost puppy. Aunt Ginny had tried to stop her at first, but everybody knew that Teddy loved the attention he got, and eventually Lily became known as Teddy's little lamb.

Out of the long line of Lupin's fanatic worshippers (and she said this with as much sarcasm as she dared), Lily was, perhaps, number one.

Teddy prised Lucy off of him, instead tousling her hair affectionately. "Are Lucy and Fred getting the first year treatment?"

Teddy and Victoire shared a knowing look. Every honorary Weasley had been subjected to it - Molly Weasley was no cheapskate when it came to a grandchild's first year. Presents, feasts, adoring kisses and letters every second day; first year was the one you wanted to keep on Grandma Weasley's good side.

Lily sighed. "Yeah. It's _so_ not fair! Hi Victoire," she added just as excitedly, switching to give her a tight hug instead.

Victoire kneeled down and returned the favour, playing with a strand of the Weasley red hair that she craved so much. "Did Aunt Ginny do your hair? It's very pretty."

Lily beamed at the compliment. "No, Dad did it! I wish I had your hair though. It's so wavy, and long and.. not red." She pulled a face at that, and Victoire laughed. Teddy looked positively gleeful at the news that Harry Potter had braided his only daughter's hair. He was filing it away for blackmail, no doubt.

She was unfortunate enough not to have inherited the trademark hair, sadly. She looked more like her mother than her father, aside from the freckles and the blue eyes. She knew she was pretty - the Veela in her brought that out - but a part of her had always wanted to look more like a proper Weasley. Unfortunately, Dominique had hogged all the luck in that department.

"I'd love to have your hair, Lily," she insisted kindly. "It shows that you're a proper Weasley, see?"

"And it also shows that you have spirit," Teddy added, scooping up Lily and swinging her around until she was piggybacking on him with her arms tightly around his neck and a bright smile on her face.

"But Muggle kids always look at me funny. They say I'm weird."

"They're ones to talk. If anything, Muggles are the weird ones. Imagine life without magic!" A short, blonde girl popped into the conversation, a black beanie perched on her head and a winning smile on her features. She looked completely at ease with the chaotic tangle of Weasleys.

"Carrie!" Victoire waved, her mood suddenly lifted twice as much as before. Carrie was a Gryffindor through and through, and one of Victoire's best friends. They'd become close in first year, when Carrie had shouted at an older boy for pulling Victoire's hair. She didn't know what she'd do without Carrie's spunk and quick-thinking. "You promised you'd write this summer, you prat."

Carrie pulled a face, adjusting her beanie as it slipped over her eyes. "Sorry! I forgot. You know I hate writing. Besides, Archie damaged his leg flying into the window and Mum wouldn't let me borrow a new owl. Bloody useless lump of a pet, if you ask me."

"Cattermole." Teddy's eyes danced in mischief. He let out a small groan as he set Lily back down, which earned him some loud giggles from the youngest Potter. "I heard you had a summer fling with Aiden Boot."

"Vi, you git! You told Lupin?" Carrie shrieked incredulously.

"Naw, don't blame her. I prised it out of her with my superb seduction skills," Teddy said easily.

To her embarrassment, Victoire felt herself heating up, the tips of her ears turning red and her cheeks lightly dusting with pink. Still, she kept her cool. Years of Teddy Lupin, and yet, he still constantly managed to surprise her everytime he opened his mouth. Unexpectedly sweet, decidedly mischevious, stubbornly loyal, these were just a few of Teddy Lupin's many colours.

"You did _not_ seduce me," sniffed Victoire. "I was writing to Nora and he peeked over my shoulder and read the letter, the nosy twit."

Teddy made a mock noise as if he was deeply offended. Carrie, however, seemed unperturbed.

"Well, Aiden is a _total_ dreamboat. You should see him in the mornings.. _Merlin_."

Faster than the speed of light, Victoire swept forward and swiftly covered Lily's ears. The little girl blinked obliviously as her older cousin shielded her from the horrors that Carrie had been about to reveal. "Car!" she reprimanded. "Don't ruin my cousin's childhood, please. If Aunt Ginny finds out, I'll never hear the end of it."

"And you won't escape the Bat Bogey hex either," snorted Teddy. "She's famous for those."

"Sorry." Carrie didn't seem the slightest bit sorry. That was Carrie Cattermole for you, she supposed. Blunt to a definite fault, and decidedly unapologetic for her actions. "I'll let you know all about it on the train then. Sorry Lils. Here, have a lolly?"

That was another odd quirk Carrie had. Where-ever, whenever, Carrie always seemed to have sweets on her. In her pocket, in her bag, somewhere tucked in her robes, scattered little storage places. And they were often different, too. A sherbet once, a pumpkin pasty the next (she seemed to be particularly fond of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes). Victoire wasn't sure if she had an enchantment that constantly supplied her with confectionary, or whether she simply restocked every time she ran out.

Honestly, she was too afraid to ask.

Lily accepted the sweet with a sunny smile of delight, but before anything further could happen, a loud horn startled all of them. The train let out a large puff of steam, as if announcing that it was impatient for everybody to get on board.

"We'd better get on the train," Victoire pointed out, with a reluctant glance at Lily. "Otherwise we'll never get a good seat."

"No!" wailed Lily. "Don't go! Not yet!"

"We have to, Lils," she said gently, giving her a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her hair. "Be a good girl for Mum and Dad, okay? Don't be too upset. You'll be at Hogwarts before you know it, I promise. We'll write to you every week."

"Well, Vi will. I might not," interrupted Teddy. "I hate writing letters."

"Lupin!" Victoire shot him a fierce look. "Don't make this any harder then it already is."

Teddy held his hands up in surrender. Everybody knew not to mess with the infamous Weasley Glare. "Sorry, sorry."

"Promise you'll write at least once?" Lily pleaded. Her blue eyes were wide and adoring.

With a grin, he knelt down and ruffled her hair. "You betcha, Lunes."

Carrie tugged on Victoire's arm. "Sorry to break up the heartwarming moment, but we've _really_ got to go. We're going to miss the train. You've said all your goodbyes already, right?"

"Yeah," nodded Victoire, grabbing for her bags. Teddy gave Lily one last hug and then they were off, sprinting down the Platform in an effort to make it onto the train in due time. By the time they reached an open carriage, their hair was wild and their cheeks red from exhilaration, a picture perfect sight to all those who happened upon them.

The train guard stared down at them warningly. "You kids are cutting a fine line. Any longer and I would have locked the doors on you."

They clambered up the stairs, lugging their bags after them with huffs of exhaustion.

Victoire blushed deeply as Carrie soldiered on ahead to find them an empty spot. "Sorry, Mister. We were saying goodbye to my cousin."

Teddy, however, didn't seem so submissive.

"Um - excuse me, do you know who we are? My godfather is Harry Potter, and _this_ lovely specimen right here is none other than Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's - "

"Teddy," hissed Victoire, teeth gritted. She grabbed him tightly by the arm, making sure her fingernails dug into his skin as she towed him down the train.

"Ow - ouch, let go of me!" Teddy moaned once they were a safe distance away from the train guard and his impatient scowl. She released his arm and he winced, nursing it like he'd just been forced to punch a rock. "For Dumbledore's sake, why are your nails so long?"

Victoire rolled her eyes. "Go find your friends, Lupin."

 **...**

It wasn't long before Victoire finally located her own friends, all sitting in a group with lollies and magazines splayed impressively across the compartment. She slid the door open with a wide smile, and was immediately greeted with a chorus of cheerful 'hello's.

"Vi! We missed you!" A tall girl jumped up and threw herself at Victoire, smiling broadly. She had curly brown hair, long lashes and pale green eyes - not to mention she'd gained a couple of inches over the summer.

"I missed you too, Nora," returned Victoire just as happily.

Nora threw herself back down next to Carrie, who was flipping through a recent edition of _Witch Weekly_ and snacking on a chocolate frog. On the other side sat a pale girl who bore straight red hair and black-rimmed glasses, with her nose currently buried in a book so thick Victoire couldn't make out the faded title. Beside her sat a thin boy of around the same age, with messy brown curls and wide chocolate eyes.

"Abigail, do you think you can stop reading for one moment?" teased Victoire, "I'd love a hug."

"Hmm?" Abigail glanced up, looked back at her book, and then started as if she'd just realised Victoire had arrived (which was probably true). "Oh, Vi! Hi."

The two embraced briefly, and the curly-haired boy suddenly shuffled, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm going to go and find my friends now, okay?" he murmured to Abigail.

Abby returned with a smile. "See you, sweetie."

He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss on the lips and then he was stumbling out of the compartment, nodding at Victoire as he passed. "Hi Victoire."

"Hey Rory," she said nicely.

"Catch ya later, McCormack," Carrie shouted after him.

Abigail kicked Carrie in the shin. "Don't! He's already scared enough of you guys. It was all I could do to convince him to come and sit in the carriage with us."

" _See you, sweetie_ ," mimicked Carrie in a sickly sweet voice. That sent a ripple of laughter through the room, and even Abigail couldn't help but smile.

"Okay, that is _not_ what I sound like," Abigail protested. "Don't be mean to him! He's just shy."

"After three years of dating _the_ Abigail Runcorn?" scoffed Carrie. "Please, he's got to get more comfortable around us if he ever ends up marrying you. I am not giving up my godmother privileges."

Victoire raised an eyebrow. "Like she would ever make _you_ godmother."

Nora leaned over to snatch _Witch Weekly_ from Carrie. "I think he's sweet," she announced. "Lots of girls go for that kind of thing, you know? Socially-awkward, shy, tender - it's the current trend."

"I'm not dating him for a _trend_!"

"We know you're not, Abby," reassured Victoire.

"Well, his lot certainly aren't _my_ type," Carrie stated bluntly, kicking her feet up and resting her legs on Nora's lap.

"Yes, we all know what your type is," the three girls chorused in unison, "tall, dark and handsome."

"Carrie likes her men as mysteries," Abigail snickered in a sing-song tone, once more absorbed in her book.

"Speaking of, you never told us about this newest fling of yours," Nora pointed out, flipping a page over in her magazine. "What was his name again? Allen something-or-other?"

"Aiden Boot. He's a sixth year - Ravenclaw, I think," supplied Victoire, drawing her classic Hogwarts school tie out of her bag and holding it up to her neck to see if it would still fit. She hadn't had a massive growth spurt since fourth year - but who really knew what was going on with her body. "Yeah, go on, Car. Let's hear about the next dreamy boy you've picked up on your luxurious travels."

Carrie leaned back, eyes closed to give her story a dramatic effect. "Well, he's right dreamy, he is. 'Got that whole Christian Grey thing going for him too..."

 **...**

It was dark by the time the students of Hogwarts started to pile into the Great Hall. It was storming outside as well, and while the second years and onward were protected by the invisible-horse drawn carriages, the newest additions to Hogwarts weren't quite so lucky.

Carrie and Nora seemed to find great amusement in watching the first years stumble into the Great Hall, eyes wide with awe and robes dripping with rain water as they traipsed through in a big huddle - rather like penguins, she thought absentmindedly.

However, Victoire could only think of her cousins, and how they were coping on their first moments at Hogwarts. None of them had missed any of the adults' stories, of course, but _she_ still remembered the first time she'd walked into Hogwarts and been blown away by the sheer impressiveness of it all.

"What do you wager then?"

Victoire jumped, only able to calm her racing heart when she recognised that low, teasing whisper. Why was it that he was able to scare her so easily? Maybe it was the lycanthropy in him, making it easier for him to sneak up on people... Although somehow, Victoire highly doubted that.

"What?" she hissed back, straining her neck to try and peer over the crowds of other Gryffindor students as they observed the first years like hawks stalking prey. She was looking for flashes of red hair amongst the huddle - obviously.

"Which house do you bet they'll be in?" Teddy grinned at her, his voice quiet for fear of being caught by a professor.

"I'm not _betting_ on my cousins," she whispered furiously.

"Fine then. _Hypothetically,_ if you _were_ to bet, what house would you place them in?" inquired Teddy. When she refused to answer, he carried on, cheerful as ever. "I reckon Lucy's a Ravenclaw, then."

Victoire had promised herself that she wouldn't get involved in Teddy's silly games, but - "Lucy? Ravenclaw? You _can't_ be serious." She fixed him with a gaze of incredulousness. His eyes were brown. They were always brown. Why was that so?

"What're you going on about? With Perce and Audrey as her parents, the poor kid's bound to be Ravenclaw! Besides, Molly's a 'claw."

"You forget, Uncle Percy was a Gryffindor too. Besides, Lucy is far more about bravery than she is about intellect. Remember that time she climbed up that tree even though we told her not to?"

"She fell and broke her leg," Teddy recalled.

"Aunt Audrey was furious," Victoire nodded. "Lucy loves a good book, and she's way cleverer than we give her credit. But she's definitely Gryffindor. Hypothetically, of course."

"Well, what about Fred then?" he challenged quickly. Teddy wasn't a fan of losing - and to Victoire, no less.

"What about him?"

"His house, obviously. Oh, Fred's mine for sure."

"What do you mean by _yours_?"

"Well - I meant, my house. Fred's a staple Hufflepuff. I mean, look at him! He's always cracking jokes, and I don't think I've ever seen him voluntarily read a book before," said Teddy, as if it was completely obvious.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Fred's cheerful, but he's not exactly the most sensitive wizard on the block. He's brave, too. I saw him talking back to Aunt Ginny _and_ Maman. He's not exactly sweet, or kind, or helpful."

Teddy looked a little bit put out. "That's a bit stereotypical, don't you think?"

Almost on impulse, she reached a hand out to his arm comfortingly. "That's not what I meant. I was just saying.. Fred's the Gryffindor kind of reckless. Stupid brave."

"If you two are done _chatting_ , _some_ people are actually _trying_ to concentrate," hissed Eloise Ritten, 7th year and fellow Gryffindor.

Victoire sprung away from Teddy instantly, turning a deep shade of red that could probably rival any Weasley's hair. "Sorry Eloise," she murmured profusely.

"C'mon, Ritten," smirked Teddy, all charm and wit. "You know you love me."

As if on cue, a booming voice suddenly cut through the hall. Victoire was almost certain she saw a frightened first year drop her toad in surprise.

" _EDWARD LUPIN, RETURN TO YOUR HOUSE TABLE AT ONCE._ "

Professor McGonagall, old and greying with age, was no less lively than the day she'd taught her very first Potter, quite a long while ago.

Victoire flushed so hard she was certain she was never going to be the same skin tone again, but Teddy merely slipped out of his seat and waved at Victoire. "I'll see you around, Weasley," he whispered like it was a secret only for her ears to hear.

As laughs rippled through the older students, Victoire turned and valiantly refrained from burying herself in her robes forever. Across the table, Nora and Carrie exchanged looks and then gave her loopy smiles, as if they knew something she didn't. Next to her, Abigail patted her arm soothingly, with occasional comments like, "there, there," and "it was only in front of the whole school,".

Headmistress Diane Demelza deemed it fit to start her speech off then, her purple and black robes swaying as she stepped onto the podium with grandeur.

"Thank you for that delightful interruption, Mr Lupin." Again, more laughter from the school. "I'll be sure to keep the speech brief, so as not to keep you from the delicious feast that awaits. Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts. For returning students and newly acquainted ones, I hope you enjoy your year here. As always, Mr Filch has a list of prohibited items pinned up outside his office. I shall take this moment to remind you that all items from _Weasleys Wizard Wheezes_ are banned."

A collective grown arose from the crowd, but Demelza merely smiled. "I should care to remind all students who are of the appropriate age that N.E.W.T's and O.W.L's are not far away, so do remember to do your studying. Now, without further delay, we bring you a ballad from the Sorting Hat himself!"

As the Sorting Hat burst into the lastest rendition of his ridiculous song, Victoire determinedly ignored Carrie's adamant pokes on the shoulder. Instead, she listened intently as the first years began to be called out.

"Abernathy, Cade."

The hat was placed upon a quavering child's head, and mere moments later: "RAVENCLAW!"

The list proceeded on, one tiny first year after the other, until eventually it came to the long awaited W's.

"Weasley, Fred."

Victoire watched as Fred made his way up to the hat, full of confidence. His ginger hair made him a Weasley staple, not to mention his toothy smile and the freckles on his nose.

Mere seconds after the hat was placed, it declared: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Victoire joined in with her house's enthusiastic cheering, and she waved to him brightly as Fred sat down next to James, who was crowing with obvious delight.

Then it was Lucy's turn. What with reddish-brown hair and green eyes, she wasn't so blatantly a typical Weasley. She shook a little as she made the trek to the stool, but she walked with no hesitance. The hat was placed upon her head, and all was silent. Students began to mutter as Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and still the hat said nothing.

Then, out of the blue, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Victoire clapped as hard as she could. If she could see Teddy's face...

 **...**

As a sixth year prefect, Victoire was expected to escort her sleepy house up to the dorms. After leading them up through the winding staircases, instructing the first years on which paintings _not_ to talk to and convincing a drunken Fat Lady that 'yes, Murlap Soup was veru much the password', it was no surprise that she was yawning widely by the time she'd finished.

Still, that didn't stop her from calling out to Teddy as he wandered past (Merlin knows why he was still up). "Lupin!"

He paused immediately, crossing over to perch on the stair bannister and grin at her. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically. Without warning, she suddenly slumped until she was sitting on the floor, back leaning on the wall and legs pulled up to her chest. She let her head fall back with a soft _thump_. "I'm exhausted."

"I can see that. Still enjoying being a perfect prefect?"

"If it means I get to use the Prefects Bathroom, my answer will forever be yes. You owe me twenty sickles, by the way."

"What?" Teddy raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were the one who decided that it wasn't a bet!"

She shrugged. "That was before I won. I want the money before tomorrow, werewolf boy."

"You did _not_ just call me that."

"I did," she frowned to herself, "but I'm not quite sure that I meant to."

A snort from him. "Figures."

Victoire glanced curiously at him. "Why _are_ you up at this time, anyway?"

Teddy hesitated for a split second. "It's the full moon tonight. Um.. I always find it hard to sleep on full moons."

He seemed surprised when she thought nothing of it, instead yawning widely. "I wish I could borrow some of that. Do you think you can lend me some? I'll return it, honest."

He laughed - a startling, but not altogether upsetting noise in the still of the night. "I wish I could, Vi." He jumped off the railing to stand in front of her, extending a hand. "I can, however, offer my piggybacking services. I have very high reviews from none other than _the_ Miss Lily Potter and _the_ Mr Hugo Weasley."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "A piggyback? _Really_?"

Teddy shrugged. "What? We used to do it all the time."

He did have a point, Victoire reasoned, recounting various points in their childhood in which they'd played games with all the innocence of little children and no care for personal space. And she _was_ unbelievably tired. Shaking her head (why on Earth was she taking up on this offer?), she accepted Teddy's hand as he helped her to her feet.

"Tally-ho then, my valiant pig."

"Why of course, dear princess."

("But really - I'll tip you off my back if you call me a pig again."

"No promises, Lupin."

And a few sleep-deprived giggles later: "Oink, oink.")


	2. A Universal Truth

**AN** _ **:** _ I'd just like to say thank you so much for all the lovely feedback and support for the very first chapter! I love seeing that. Without further adieu, here's the second chapter of White Teeth Teens - I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 _ **Previously on WTT:**_ _The students of Hogwarts disembark for yet another year at the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Carrie can't stop talking about her latest fling with sixth year Ravenclaw, Aiden Boot. First years Fred and Molly Weasley are sorted into Gryffindor, meaning Teddy loses a bet to Victoire._

 _ **WHITE TEETH TEENS  
(a universal truth)**_

 _Monday, 2nd September, 2016  
_ _(Victoire Weasley)_

"Vi! Vi, get up!"

Victoire was torn out of her beloved sleep by somebody shaking her insistently. Letting a small groan escape from her lips, she cracked an eye open, squinting through the light streaming in the windows to identify her culprit.

What she was met with was a familiar set of hazel green eyes, and a tangle of brown curls. "Nora? Is everything okay?"

Nora laughed lightly, skipping away from the bed and crossing over to her dresser instead. "Better then okay, Vi. No classes today, remember?"

Victoire didn't, in fact, remember. She sat up in her bed and pulled down the covers, running a hand through a mess of pale blonde hair. "What? Why?"

"Sixth years don't have classes on the first day back because they have to visit their Head of House to discuss class options for N.E.W.T levels," said Abigail all in one breath. The red-head was propped up on the end of her bed, flipping through (yet another) book as if she had done nothing more than inquire about the weather.

Victoire couldn't help but grin. "I swear you've got an inbuilt library somewhere in there."

"I can't believe you're reading on our day off. _And_ on our first day back," complained Nora, swiping a tube of gloss across her lips and reaching for a bottle of mascara. She picked up her hairbrush and promptly tossed it at Victoire. "Up you get, Vi. We're going to do something _fun_ with our day."

Victoire rolled her eyes but obeyed, picking the brush up off the floor and tugging it through her own waves. She wasn't quite sure what Nora had in mind, but knowing her friend, she was sure it had something to do with boys. That meant doing her hair and make-up, unfortunately. She wouldn't have even bothered, save for Nora's insistence on such matters.

"It's called studying," Abigail retorted dryly. "You might like to try it sometime, Clearwater. I hear it actually improves grades, you know?"

"Don't be such a downer, Abby." Nora waved her off easily. "Being a teenager is about having _fun_. I promise that this time tomorrow, I'll be studying my flat out hardest for N.E.W.T's. But look - even Serenity Trelawney isn't here, and she gets top marks in _everything_."

A sudden thought occurred to Victoire. "Where is everybody?"

"Carrie's gone down to breakfast. She's probably in a closet somewhere, snogging with her newest boy-toy. Merlin knows where Twycross and Trelawney are." Nora pouted in the mirror and smiled, looking pleased with her appearance. "Come, Vi. I'll do your hair and you can do your make-up?"

Victoire gave a playful sigh, but didn't object when Nora gently started threading her hands through her hair. Everybody knew better than to interrupt Nora Runcorn when she was on a roll. Besides, the smaller girl seemed to have a knack for all things girly anyway. Her hair would be in good hands.

"What's the plan?" she asked lightly.

"Well, I heard from the boys that the teams are going out for a friendly game. Or maybe it was practice, I'm not sure. Either way, it's Quidditch! All the fit ones will be out there."

Victoire rolled her eyes and laughed at Nora's enthusiasm. "You have a boyfriend, Nora."

The brunette shrugged, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Doesn't mean I can't admire from afar, right? Are you sure you don't want to come, Abby?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Abigail said without looking up from her book.

Nora huffed. "Spoilsport."

"Slag."

"Git."

"Prat."

"Twit."

Victoire squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to smile.

It was good to be back.

 **...**

 _(Abigail Runcorn)_

Finally.

She'd thought it was never going to happen, but eventually Victoire and Nora finished up and left the dorm room. Abigail waited until she could no longer hear Nora's incessant chattering before she shot up and abandoned her book. She paused only to smear some lipstick on and double-check her hair, before she was zooming off and out of the dorm, practically flying through the common room.

"Hey!" shouted James Potter, fellow Gryffindor. "Watch where you're going! You just about broke my new broom!"

Abigail ignored him, instead crawling out the port hole and wandering through the corridors until she was at the designated place. She hovered outside a statue of a knight for a few anxious minutes, but before she could double-check herself, a hand shot out and clamped around her mouth, dragging her into the storage closet and muffling her screams.

Panicked, she bit down on the hand hard, spinning around to face her assailant as the closet door swung shut behind them.

Fortunately for her, it was not a bloodthirsty murderer she was faced with, but Donovan Crosse in all his rugged glory, with his piercing jade eyes and his deeply-defined jawbone.

"Merlin," he swore. "Did you really have to bite me?"

"Well maybe you shouldn't have dragged me in here like some creep!" she retorted just as fiercely. She was still trying to calm her pounding heart. "I thought I was being mugged! You could have at least given me some warning!"

"Yeah, but you were being bloody obvious, standing out there in the middle of the corridor like a knob," countered Donovan.

"Crosse, you are going to be the death of me."

Donovan grinned. "And don't you forget it."

Without warning, he leaned down and pressed a searing kiss to her lips. She grabbed the fabric of his shirt in her fist as they fell back against the wall.

Abigail knew this was wrong. She was cheating on Rory, her faithful boyfriend for two and a half years.

But when Donovan Crosse, local Slytherin dreamboat and the desire of practically every straight girl's dreams had shown interest in _her_ , bookish, red-haired Abigail Runcorn, well...

How could a girl resist?

 **...**

 _(Victoire Weasley)_

 _ **Weasleys' Sorted - But Into the Right House?  
**_ _'Today marks the day of yet another school year! Of course, we already know all about Teddy Lupin, James Potter and the eldest Weasleys, but this year two more of the infamous Weasley children are shipped off to boarding school! Fred (son of George and Angelina), and Lucy (daughter of Percy and Audrey) Weasley. Our sources inform us of the Houses in which they were sorted into. Gryffindor for Fred of course, as we all predicted, but Lucy shocked us all when she did not follow her sister into Ravenclaw, but the House of Bravery instead! Could Percy and Audrey be forcing their child into something she's not? Turn to page 12 for more information on the subject...'_

"Don't tell me you're actually reading that," Carrie scoffed, leaning over an intimidated first year to grab a jug of pumpkin juice. Since coming downstairs and finding Carrie already at breakfast, Nora had left to find her boyfriend. "It's all a lot of hogwash, you realise? Rita Skeeter's rubbish."

"You don't need to remind me," sighed Victoire. She remembered the " _Victoire Weasley; Did She Use Her Stunning Looks To Get Into Gryffindor?_ " instalment of first year. Her parents had been furious, and Grandma Molly had burnt the copy as soon as she'd caught sight of it. "I can't help it, that's all."

"I know. That's how she gets all her money if you ask me," said Carrie. She gulped down a pancake so quickly Victoire barely saw it leave the plate before it was gone. "Pass it here, then."

Victoire nudged the paper across the table and swirled her spoon around a bowl of cereal as Carrie skimmed over it, chewing on her breakfast thoughtfully. Really, the sight was almost comical.

"So, how'd it go with Aiden Boot?" Victoire inquired casually.

"We broke up."

"What?" Victoire blinked, surprised. "Oh, Carrie..."

" _What_?"

"You can't keep doing this, Car."

Carrie bit the end of her spoon and turned the page, pretending to be completely oblivious. "Doing what?"

"Going out with boys and breaking up with them weeks later! And not in a normal fashion, either! I think the longest boyfriend you ever had was for a staggering period of three months."

"Oh," mused the blonde. "Sam Carpenter... Yes, he was cute."

Victoire snatched the paper away from Carrie to grab her attention. "You're going through boys like Kleenex!"

"Clean-what?"

"Kleenex. It's... they're like tissues. It's a Muggle thing," Victoire explained, scrunching her nose up in concentration. "Aunt Hermione introduced me."

Carrie blinked at her like she was crazy. "Right..."

"The point _is_ ," Victoire pressed on, "this isn't healthy. Or normal. If you're not careful, people are going to start thinking of you as a slag. And I mean, if you want to be a slag, that's great, good for you, but I _know_ you, and I _know_ you're not that kind of person."

"I just.." for a split second, Carrie looked unsure, "I just haven't found the right person yet. I'm looking for my soulmate, and if I have to date the whole school to find him, then so be it. And I've never actually done anything! Nothing past snogging, so come off the idea that I'm a slag."

Before Victoire could come up with something that wouldn't offend her friend, Nora showed up at the table, tugging a tall, dark-skinned, dusty-haired bloke along with her: Gage Notts, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was an alright guy (after all, he'd let Dom and James onto the team), but in Nora's eyes it seemed he could do no wrong.

"Gage says the Hufflepuffs have booked the pitch first," Nora said brightly. "I think we should go down anyway."

Victoire pulled a small face. "Do we have to?"

The morning was crisp, and even though Victoire had piled on layer after layer, she could still feel the cold seeping in through the crevices. No doubt that the Quidditch pitch would be even colder still. No, she was _not_ going down if she had a say in the matter.

Unfortunately, it appeared that she didn't, because Nora pouted. "Oh please, Vi? Gryffindor has it straight after anyway, so we might as well head down. Live a little, sweetheart!"

Carrie folded up the newspaper and shoved her plate forward with a contented sigh. "Besides, Teddy Lupin will be there, Vi."

Victoire gave her a sharp look. "What's that supposed to mean? You're not planning on adding _Teddy_ to your collection, are you?"

"Merlin, no!" Carrie gasped, fittingly appalled by the thought. "He's cute, but.. it'd be weird."

"I'm going to take your lengthy conversation as a decided 'yes'," Nora chirped. "We'll see you at the pitch shortly, then."

"Isn't Miss Human Library coming with us?" asked Carrie as Nora and Gage walked off, hands grasped tightly.

"If you mean _Abigail_ , no. She's still up in Gryffindor Tower. Reading or studying, I think."

"Of course," sighed the other blonde. "It's like those are her only two functions."

 **...**

 _(Teddy Lupin)_

To nobody's surprise, Teddy was excited to be getting back into the sport he so dearly loved. It had been too long since he'd played a proper game of Quidditch. He and the Weasley-Potters had set up their own make-shift game in the holidays of course, but it was never quite the same.

Ginny, Ron and Harry were often too busy to play, most of the kids were too young to really understand the game (although Roxanne showed promise), and some of them just weren't athletically inclined.

He supposed he'd found plenty of joy in watching as Victoire rocked around unsteadily on a broom, but the shove she'd given him afterwards had left bruises, and to be quite honest, she was scary when she was angry. He wasn't entirely sure whether she'd picked it up from her mother's side, or her father's side. A little bit of both, he reckoned.

"Teddy! Stop daydreaming!" the messy-haired, green-eyed Captain of the Hufflepuff team called. Enter Jamie Singleton, a good-looking guy with flocks of girls ready to attend to him at any given moment, and one of Teddy's best mates.

Jamie was a generally laid-back guy, but he did not take Quidditch lightly. Teddy knew if he didn't play well, he'd be left cleaning up the gear room (a nasty feat by any other means).

"Sorry," Teddy grinned at him. He pulled on his yellow and black Quidditch robes, cricking his neck in preparation. "I was just thinking."

"You've been 'just thinking' a lot lately," Jamie pointed out in a friendly fashion. "Do you forget what House you're in? Because I don't see an opening on the Ravenclaw team, Lupin."

"You're a git."

Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. "One and only."

"If you two are done, some of us actually want to get out and practice," hollered fourth year Uriah Wilde.

"Right then," Jamie nodded, signalling for the team to gather around, cramped as they were in the tiny gear room. "Let's start off with two laps around the pitch, then we'll practice throwing bludgers. I'll be the defender. Now, we've got to practice hard, understand? We're always the underdogs, yeah? Not this season. This season, we take home the prize."

Cheers of agreement erupted from the team.

"I heard that Potter got a new broom," Eliza Haymitch announced, eyes glinting determinedly.

"He did," Teddy recalled with a glum expression. He remembered staying with the Potters, only to have James and Harry return home from Diagon Alley with a little something special. James hadn't stopped gloating for days, but Teddy and Dominique hadn't stopped glowering either. "A _Krum 2.0_. Signed, too. Harry's got connections."

Someone whistled appreciatively, and Jamie raised his eyebrows. "I keep forgetting that you're close with the Weasleys."

"Are you jealous?"

"Not in the slightest. Bunch of lunatics, they are."

Teddy grinned. " _That_ , is possibly the most accurate description of the Weasleys I've ever heard."

Jamie held up his broom. "Let's get out onto the field, people!"

The Hufflepuff team swarmed out of the gear room and onto the pitch, mounting their brooms and taking off into the greying skies. Teddy followed suit, immediately grinning as he soared through the air, feeling his robes fly behind him and enjoying the feeling of the wind rushing through his (black, today) hair. _This_ was why he played Quidditch. Not to get glory from the cup, not to show off in front of the whole school (although that was a pleasant bonus).

He had to admit to himself that yes, he had initially signed up to please not only Harry and Ginny, but his mother too. He'd heard numerous times that she'd been a right shot on a broomstick.

Thinking about his parents was weird. He knew he was supposed to be sad, and he _was_. There's nothing quite like knowing that you will never be given The Talk from your dad, or see your mother's infectious smile in person. But the thing is.. Teddy never knew them. Not really. He missed them with all his heart, but not in the way that he missed an old friend, missed their personality and talents. Rather, he missed the notion of having parents, missed the notion of being able to tease his siblings or slam the door in his mother's face after an argument. It was like there was a gaping, empty spot where Remus and Tonks Lupin were supposed to be.

"Lupin! You're doing it again," Jamie called as they finished their second lap of the field.

Teddy touched down and landed clumsily (Harry said he got it from his mother), shooting his friend an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

Jamie rolled his eyes. "Alright, team! You know the drill - lets start off slow with some stretching and crunches, then we'll get right into the thick of it."

By the time they'd finished with practice, everybody except Jamie was groaning about how their muscles ached and how they felt sick from too much exertion.

"I'm gonna puke," moaned Grayson Smith (Hufflepuff Chaser).

Teddy abandoned his broomstick and fell onto his back, letting the blissfully cool dew seep through his Quidditch robes in a fruitless attempt to cool himself down. His muscles burned, he was pretty he had developed a few bruises somewhere along the ride, and his ears were still ringing from the various 'motivational' insults that Jamie had hurled at them.

"If it doesn't burn, you're not doing it right," declared Jamie, wandering over from the gear room after stowing the equipment away.

"That is _the_ worst saying I've ever heard," Teddy remarked.

"Toughen up, Edward," Jamie grinned. Teddy's smile turned into a scowl - Jamie knew full well just how much he disliked people using his first name. "The other teams are coming down to practice as well. We've just gotta get as many advantages as we can."

Harriet Linguini sat up, squinting against the sun. "Speaking of other teams, is that the Gryffindors?"

Teddy turned to look. Harriet was right, a group of people dressed in vivid reds and golds were just making their way in. Among the cluster, he also spotted a familiar wave of blonde hair that he distinctly knew was _not_ a Quidditch player.

"What's Victoire Weasley doing here?" Jamie voiced Teddy's thoughts. "Did she join the team?"

Teddy smothered a smile. "Can't have. Vi can't play to save her life. She's probably here to watch her sister and her friends."

The Gryffindors traipsed closer, brooms in their hands as they approached the Hufflepuffs. Team Captain Gage Notts gave them a polite nod - he was the type to believe in enemy fraternising - but the rest of his team slipped in and started to mingle effortlessly. When they weren't competing, the Quidditch teams often found that they got along well. There was always plenty to talk about, after all.

"Lupin!" called a voice. Dominique Weasley, a bluntly opinionated, stick-in-the-mud sort of girl, with wild red hair and looks (almost) pretty enough to rival her sister's. Teddy had always been close with Dominique. As kids, she'd often hung out with him and Victoire. He was even a little ashamed to say that they'd pinned a lot of trouble on her, but she'd got them back as soon as she was old enough to develop her own skin.

"Dom," he grinned. She threw herself into his arms, and he made a point to groan exaggeratedly. "Gained a couple pounds, have you?"

"Prig," scowled Dominique. "Like I would care if I gained weight. And for the record, I've grown _taller_."

"Mm, I can see that," Teddy agreed. Dominique had, in fact, grown since he'd last seen her. She'd gone over to France for the holidays to visit her grandparents, and she'd returned with a pretty tan, longer legs and a face that no longer held any of it's childish innocence. Teddy couldn't deny that she had certainly grown up. Although whether he liked it or not, he still couldn't decide.

"I was hoping that I would be taller than Victoire this year," Dominique confessed. Instinctively, they both looked over to the blonde. She was laughing with a group of friends, although he wasn't entirely sure what about.

Teddy shrugged. "You're only fourteen."

"Almost _fifteen_. You're just like everybody else," she huffed. "Just because I'm young doesn't mean I can't accomplish anything. You don't see Louis being judged for his age!"

"What does it matter if you're taller than Victoire anyway?" asked Teddy, tearing his gaze away from Victoire and the others to refocus back on the younger Weasley.

"Well, I've got to beat her at _something_ , hadn't I?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Red?"

"For the last time, I'm not the only ginger in the family!" Dominique snapped.

"You're the first one, though," Teddy countered. "And you're avoiding my question."

Dominique stayed silent, clearly hesitant. In an effort to convince her he was trustworthy his hair turned a friendly shade of bubblegum pink. She laughed and he grinned. "Gotcha."

"Okay, well.. here's the simple truth of the matter. Victoire Weasley has always been the better daughter."

He began to laugh, but she silenced him with a glare that was akin to her sister's. He was now assured that she wasn't joking.

"Don't laugh at my problems, Teddy. You were the one that asked."

"Sorry. Go on."

"The problem _is_ , I'm the second child. The middle child, and the second daughter," Dominique began, as if she was lifting a great weight off her chest. "That's never fun anyway, but then you have me compete with Victoire _and_ Louis. Louis' handsome, of course, and he has this air about him that makes _everybody_ like him, which is so unfair."

"Very true," Teddy conceded.

"Shut up, Lupin. Anyway, then there's Victoire. She's pretty, with all this blonde hair and pale skin and she's got all these friends and she's such a goody-two-shoes that it physically _hurts_."

Teddy opens his mouth: "Dom - "

"Lupin! Are we leaving or not?"

"Coming!" Teddy yelled to Jamie, cursing his friend's unfortunate timing. "Listen Dom, we're going to continue this conversation later, okay?"

Dominque looked upset but gave a brief nod. Teddy gave her one of his sunniest grins and then ran to catch up with his friend, pausing only to nudge Victoire gently.

"You and your sister are very problematic."

 **...**

Later, during lunch, Teddy sat at one of the tables alone as he attempted to clean his broom. It was something that could probably be done easier with magic, but Teddy found a strange satisfaction in doing it "The Muggle Way", as his Uncles George and Ron would say. His friends (Jamie, Trevor and Winter) were off doing Merlin knew what else, but after a tiring run of practice, he hadn't felt like tagging along, so he was all by himself.

Or so he thought.

"I think that's the longest word I've ever heard you say." Victoire Weasley slid into the seat next to him, helping herself to a bowl of pretzels.

"What?"

"Problematic," Victoire explained with a smile. "It's about the longest word I've ever heard you say. You're practically Ravenclaw material now."

"Haha. Very funny." He reached over to nab some of her pretzels. "Where are your friends, Weasley?"

"Nora and Carrie are ogling over some wizards in _Witch Weekly_."

"What, you're not interested in hot boys?" Teddy teased.

She shrugged, although her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Not the ones in the magazine. They lack.. personality."

Teddy snorted. "I think you've got enough personality for the both of you."

She rolled her eyes at them and they returned to companionable silence, him scrubbing away at his broom and her chewing thoughtfully on her snacks.

And eventually: "Problematic. I do actually know the meaning, you know. I used it to describe you and your sister. Your relationship is sort of..." He pulled a face, searching for the right word but unable to come across it.

"Lacking? Dwindling? Non-existant?" Victoire supplied. She sighed. "I know. We used to be really close, too. We stopped being so close after she turned thirteen, and now that she's come back from France, it's even worse."

"Have you told her this?"

She shot him a quizzical look. "What am I supposed to say? I want you back in my life and I wish your puberty blues hadn't ruined out sisterly bond?"

"Yeah," said Teddy. In his mind, it was obvious. He said what he meant, and he meant what he said. _Dr. Seuss_... or something like that. Aunt Hermione was fond of sharing Muggle stories at bedtime.

"You have all the subtlety of a hand grenade," Victoire huffed. Before he could ask, she added: "Muggle bomb. Aunt Hermione. You know the drill."

"Girls are so sensitive," he complained. "I mean, why can't you just _say_ what you're thinking? That would save the rest of us from having a mental breakdown trying to figure out what all your bloody.. signals are."

Victoire whacked him with a roll of newspaper. "That's not exclusive to females, Lupin."

"Whatever."

She propped her arms up on the table and rested her head on her hands. Strands of wispy blonde hair crept into the half-eaten bowl of pretzels, and he pushed them out of the way without even thinking about it. She gave him an odd look, but continued on anyway. "I'm guessing this moral dilemma of yours isn't about me and the rather alarming amount of pretzels I've eaten in the last hour?" She paused. "It's Dominique, isn't it? Who you're worried about."

Teddy hesitated. On one hand, the red-headed girl would slap him for spilling her secrets to her sister. On the other hand, Victoire _did_ have the right to know. Besides, he had no doubt that Victoire would just as easily slap him for _not_ telling her.

"She feels like she's in your shadow," he blurted out eventually.

Victoire blinked in obvious surprise. "Pardon?"

"Dominique. She feels like she's the odd one out. She thinks that you and Louis are pretty and perfect and she's not, and I'm supposed to meet her up in the Astronomy Tower later but I've got no clue what to say and how to make her feel better."

Victoire was quiet for a minute, and she was soft when she spoke again. "Why didn't she tell me?"

When he glanced over he saw that she was frowning intently at the table. "Maybe she was scared of what you had to say."

"What _could_ I possibly say? She's my sister, Teddy! I would never intentionally harm her!"

"You should tell her that," he offered. She bit her lip. Teddy was no good with girls, but he'd known this particular one long enough to figure out just how she ticked. "You know what you have to do now, don't you?"

She looked at him in alarm. "You want me to go to the Tower instead of you?"

"Victoire..."

"That's never going to end well!" she whispered so as not to draw attention from nosy students. She looked positively distraught, arms braced and blue eyes frantic as she searched him intently for any semblance of an answer.

"How will you know if you don't face it?"

At that, she slumped backwards, running a hand through her hair. "You're right. I'll go. But there's no telling what she'll do. If I end up in the hospital wing, it's you I'm throwing under the bus."

Teddy smothered his proud smile and instead returned to his broom cleaning kit. They sat like that for a long while, both daring each other to break the silence first.

She was going to lose. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her lips parted in the way they always did when she was unsure but couldn't keep it in any longer.

However, his grin died at her next words.

"She fancies you, you know?" Victoire broke through.

He just about dropped his broom. "Sorry?"

"Dominique," she said impatiently, turning to face him. "She likes you."

"What?" he spluttered. "Me? As in... _me_?"

He wasn't repelled by the thought, but it wasn't quite as thrilling as he'd expected it to be. Victoire's hot-headed, red-haired little sister fancied him? Instantly, his mind flashed through every encounter they've ever had, trying to figure out whether any of them had bore some sort of double meaning.

"Yes, you," Victoire laughed.

"Why me?" he asked, bewildered.

She paused to give him a sidelong look. "Well, why not? You're handsome, you're funny, you're.. well, I wouldn't go so far as to say intelligent - " _and somehow she still manages to slip in an insult,_ " - but you're not dim-witted. You're Edward Lupin, Teddy! Who wouldn't?"

"Not even you then?" said the stupid part of his brain.

Her eyes flickered and she grinned, tapping him on the nose. "You come up with the silliest notions, Tedster." She slid out of her seat and stole a pretzel. "I've got to run, it's my turn with Longbottom."

Then she was gone, but that was fine, because he had just been hit with a universal truth.

Victoire Weasley had placed him in the friend zone.

 **...**

 _(Victoire Weasley)_

"Miss Weasley, take a seat."

Victoire obeyed, offering Neville Longbottom a friendly smile as she glanced around the office. It was as classic as the rest of Hogwarts, what with rustic carpets draped across the floor and a warm fire crackling in the background. Still, there were little homely touches that screamed _Neville Longbottom_. For instance the little terrarium of frogs, the various potted plants growing on the windowsill, or the photo frame of a woman cradling her newborn baby.

"How's Alice?" she spoke without quite thinking, wincing as soon as the words left her mouth. To say things were a little awkward was an understatement. Neville Longbottom was an old family friend, so she was never quite certain whether to address him as 'Uncle Neville' or 'Professor Longbottom'.

Still, it looked like she'd said the right thing, because he burst into a toothy grin. "She's doing great! She had her fourth birthday party last week. Sorry you couldn't make it."

"Me too," smiled Victoire. Alice Longbottom was a little saint of a thing - kind and tenacious like her father, but with a temper that matched her mother's.

Longbottom seemed to jolt back to the task at hand, reaching for his papers. "Right, well, here's the full report and grades for your previous classes. We'll be discussing this a little later, but first - is there anything that you really _want_ to be?"

 **...**

 _(Carrie Cattermole)_

"Um... well..."

The blonde thought for a tough minute as the question hit her. She'd never really taken any thought of what she was going to do in the future. People had asked her loads of times, sure, but she'd often ignored them and carried on with whatever she was doing. Why waste time focusing on the future when you could be enjoying the present, right?

"I mean... you see... I've always thought Quidditch was great," Carrie said lamely. She expected the teacher to scoff, but instead Professor Longbottom nodded and recorded her answer down.

"Anything else? If Quidditch doesn't work out? Or maybe as a part-time job?"

"Well..." she frowned, grabbing for the first job that sprung to mind, "I've always thought the Ministry of Magic sounded alright. Follow in my dad's footsteps, I s'pose."

 **...**

 _(Abigail Runcorn)_

"You have high grades, Abigail," Professor Longbottom said encouragingly. "This means you can take the easy route to whichever job you'd like."

"Well, I've been doing some research," explained Abigail, "and the obvious choice is clearly, the Ministry of Magic. I think the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes would be perfect to catering for my needs and skills."

Professor Longbottom looked faintly surprised. "Well planned, Miss Runcorn."

Abigail shrugged. "I like to be prepared. I excel at that."

"Yes, so I can see."

 **...**

 _(Nora Clearwater)_

"My career?" Nora squeaked upon having been asked the question.

"Yes, Miss Clearwater," nodded Professor Longbottom, his wand hovering over parchment for her response.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" she asked him. "I'd love to be actress. That'd be a lot of fun. My mum says she's always loved movies, and that she'll support me if that's where I want to go."

"Acting is a difficult job," Neville reasoned. "What job would you take up if acting didn't work out?"

"Hmm? Oh.." Nora frowned. "Well... I suppose being a WelcomeWitch wouldn't be all too bad until I got my acting career up and started.

 **...**

 _(Victoire Weasley)_

Professor Longbottom waited patiently, but Victoire still felt slightly anxious. It wasn't like she'd chosen to be something terribly ambitious or charming or exciting. In fact, that was almost what worried her. All her friends, all her family, they talked about dangerous, thrilling jobs that made the heart race and the adrenaline pump. Dragon tamers, aurors, explorers,

Victoire? Well.. what she wanted was a little less exciting. Neville Longbottom was kind, but she didn't want word to spread about her career choice.

Somehow, the Gryffindor head seemed to know just what she was thinking.

"This conversation is confidential, Victoire," he assured with a small smile. "No one else has to know - unless I feel that you're in danger or you need some help."

"No! It's nothing like that," she corrected hurriedly. Victoire Weasley was being uncharacteristically nervous. She took a deep breath to reassure herself. "I think.. Well, I've _been_ thinking, and... well, a healer at St Mungo's wouldn't be half-bad, really. I mean.. I've always done okay in Potions and Charms."

To her surprise, Longbottom's smile grew wider. "St Mungo's is a brilliant choice. The Healers there are beyond friendly."

"Good to know."

"I think you're capable of achieving that," he said earnestly, summoning a folder of papers and flipping them over for her to see. "Let's see.. here! You'll need to have at least five N.E.W.T.s, with a high mark of either 'Outstanding' or 'Exceeds Expectations' at Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Victoire tried not to bite her lip. When the prospect of becoming a healer had occurred to her, she hadn't entirely thought about the high standards that came with the job. She'd never done poorly in school work, but she was by no means a Hermione Granger. Achieving so many high marks in so many subjects was daunting, to say the least.

"Professor, I'm not sure..."

"Let's try it, shall we?" Professor Longbottom suggested, eyes glowing. "If it doesn't work out for you, I can swap out your classes for something else."

"Okay," Victoire agreed finally, after a long internal battle. "I'll trial it."

He grinned. "Great."

 **...**

"Vi! We thought you were never going to be finished!" Nora patted the empty spot next to her emphatically. Victoire slid in, smiling at her friends.

"How did your meeting with Longbottom go?" Abigail asked as Victoire helped herself to the dinner splayed across the table.

"It was alright, I suppose," shrugged Victoire. "I felt really nervous telling him, though. I mean... a healer isn't the most exciting job."

"You want to be a healer? That's perfect!" Nora declared excitedly. "Carrie's brother is a healer, isn't he?"

"Just about," Carrie nodded, voice muffled around a forkful of food. "He's finishing up his apprenticeship this year. If he's lucky, he'll be a mediwizard by Christmas."

Victoire handed Carrie a napkin with a laugh, and Abigail pulled a face of distaste. "Ew, gross. Can't you keep your mouth closed when you eat?"

Carrie opened her mouth, clearly to retort with heavy indignation, but mercifully Nora stepped in before they could start another bout of bickering (as was the usual with Nora and Carrie).

"I'm going to be an actress," the curly-haired girl said proudly. She was met with several surprised looks. " _What_?"

"Nothing, Nor," Victoire said. "It's just... Well, an actress is very ambitious."

"Especially for a witch of your calibre," agreed Abigail wholeheartedly.

Nora looked faintly upset. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, she's certainly got enough drama for the part," Carrie snorted. "I say that you should go for it. Who gives a rat's tail about how ambitious it is! Do whatever you want. The world's a stage."

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say," Victoire smiled, trying not to gape at her friend.

"Speaking of Carrie - Vi wants to be a healer, Abby wants to work for the Ministry, I'm going to be an actress... what about you?" Nora leaned forward, hazel green eyes flashing in open curiosity. That was the thing about Nora, Victoire supposed. Everything she did just seemed so... _genuine_.

Unexpectedly, Carrie's mood soured and she sighed. "Can we not talk about this? Literally anything else, I'm fine with."

And that, was decidedly _un_ -Cattermole like. Abigail blinked several times. "If you're scared about telling us your career, we won't bite. I mean, I might laugh, but I'm other than that, I won't even bother you."

"I just want to eat my lasagne in peace, okay?" Carrie burst out suddenly, all in an explosion of stereotypical Gryffindor temper. Victoire blinked in surprise, barely refraining from exchanging a dubious glance with Nora and Abigail. The blonde was known for her attitude and sudden outbursts, but they were almost positive that they hadn't done anything to upset her thus far. Carrie sighed and stood up, picking up her plate of lasagne. Suddenly looking drained, she muttered: "I promised Theodore Wood that I'd give him some tips before next practice."

The three girls watched as the fourth musketeer walked out of the Great Hall and disappeared around the corner, slightly stunned.

"Since when does Carrie Cattermole leave dinner to _tutor_ a second year?" Abigail asked in disbelief.

Nora looked slightly distressed, but she rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously something is bothering her! I don't think I've ever seen her skip dinner."

Victoire decided that it wasn't the best time to point out that Carrie had, in reality, actually taken the plate up with her, instead nodding along.

"Maybe she's just torn up over that snot Boot," suggested Abby.

"Maybe..." Victoire said doubtfully.

 **...**

 _7:00pm, Astronomy Tower  
_ _bring a jacket, it gets cold  
_ _\- Teddy_

Victoire slipped the note into her pocket after rereading it for what seemed like the hundredth time. She wasn't entirely sure _why_ she was so nervous. After all, it was just a meeting with her sister. Her _little_ sister. She'd been potty-trained before Dominique could even utter her first word. She had this under control.

She took another deep breath and hugged her arms closer to herself. Teddy had been right, at least. It was _freezing_. The wind whipped unforgivingly at her hair and seeped into her bones.

Still, nothing was more uncomfortable than the knowledge that Dominique was jealous of _her_ , Victoire Weasley. How was that even possible? And if it was true... how come she hadn't noticed earlier? Right in this moment, she felt like the worst sister in the Wizarding world.

Before she could worry herself to death with the problems she had conjured for herself, footsteps began to echo up into the tower. The door opened, and light began to stream out into the dark wintery night. The familiar silhouette of her sister peeked out, clearly somewhat disbelieving.

"Teddy? Is that you?"

Victoire took an anxious step forward. "No. No, it's - it's me, Domi."

Dominique came closer, and her features could now be seen clearly. "Victoire?" She seemed aghast. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard that my sister was upset. Why shouldn't I be here?"

To her surprise, Dominique soured instantly. She was a pretty girl, but when her features were twisted into a frown, they seemed to warp the beauty. "Teddy told you," she scoffed. "Of _course_. He couldn't keep a secret from you, perfect ickle little Vi."

Stung, Victoire took a step back. Her and her sister had had many spats in the past, but she'd never quite heard such venom and animosity from the other girl before. "Don't pin this on Teddy, I practically forced him to tell me the meeting time. He felt that it was a good idea! And he's right! If there's some tension between us, we should sort it out, not talk about each other behind backs like gossips!"

Dominique's eyes flashed dangerously. "You don't get it! You never have gotten it! Then again, you don't need to, because you get _everything_ you want!"

"Domi, that's not - "

"Don't call me that," snapped her sister. "And don't bother coming after me either. That goes to Teddy as well. I don't want to talk to either of you."

Stunned, Victoire watched helplessly as Dominique stormed right back in the direction she'd just come from, leaving Victoire with nothing but the chilling wind and her own thoughts for company.

 **...**

All the way back to the Gryffindor girls' dorm, Victoire mulled over what Dominique had said in her head. Dominique had shouted something about Victoire getting everything she wanted. Some part of her thought that it might have just been something her sister had said in the spur of the moment.

But the other part of her wondered whether... well, whether Dominique was right. It was true that Victoire hadn't had a very difficult life. Nothing compared to the generation before her, of course, but even compared to some of her friends, she had it easy. Her parents were still together, and still in love. They had a pretty house, a decent amount of money, even popularity among the press. They'd never really struggled for anything.

And yes, Victoire was first born, but was she really stealing her sister's spotlight? Victoire had always been a little envious of Dominique, and how she bore so many similarities to the typical Weasley strand, but never had she stopped to consider that Dominique might think in the opposite way. Honestly, Vi just didn't get it. In her head, she'd love to be a pretty red-head with high scores, an attitude that shouted _i-dont-care_ and the ability to fly a broom well.

Maybe it was the fact that they were so different that they didn't get along, Victoire wondered as she traipsed up the stairs. Opposites attract, sure, but opposites attracted trouble with a capital T.

She tried to creak the door open gently as she crept into the dorm. It was fairly late at night, seeing as Victoire had just finished her prefect patrol, so she was trying not to disturb her fellow dorm-mates.

She snuck into the bathroom to grab a shower before bed, but when she closed the door behind her she was met with a pair of familiar eyes, framed by glasses.

"Abigail? Why are you still up?" Victoire asked in a hushed voice, trying to calm her nerves.

For a minute, Abigail seemed stumped. "I couldn't sleep," she said hurriedly. "Anyway, how'd your talk with Dominique go?"

Victoire sighed heavily. "Not well. She got really mad and ran off before I could explain myself. She officially hates me - and Teddy, too." She rubbed at her eyes in exhaustion. "Oh Merlin, what am I going to tell him?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Abigail asked in concern, fully prepared to cast the _Muffliato_ spell.

Victoire smiled and shoved her friend gently. "Thanks, but no thanks. Go to bed, Abby. Don't make me turn all 'perfect prefect' on you for being up past curfew.

Abigail rolled her eyes as she pushed past. "Like _you_ could get me to do anything. 'Night, Vi."

"'Night, Abby."


	3. Invitation Indecision

_**A/N:**_ I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long, but as you can see it's rather long! Also, I do have valid excuses! For one, it was my birthday, and for the second, my drafts decided to have a fit and I had to write this chapter all over again, when I'd already written about halfway through it. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it! The response to this fic has been really nice, thank you!

* * *

 _ **Previously on WTT:**_ _The kids return for another year at Hogwarts. The sixth years have their first day off to discuss career possibilities with their Head of House. Victoire, Abigail and Nora have their lives all planned out, but Carrie is still struggling to find something that fits. Abigail Runcorn is cheating on long-time boyfriend Rory McCormack with Slytherin hot-shot Donavan Crosse. Dominique confesses her jealousy of Victoire to Teddy. This reaches Victoire, and they argue on top of the Astronomy Tower. Teddy Lupin comes to a difficult realisation._

 _(Victoire Weasley)_

 _Shell Cottage,  
_ _Cornwall, Tinworth,  
_ _England_

 _Dear Maman and Dad,  
_ _I've settled in well. It's good to be back with my friends after being stuck with the Weasleys all holidays (I'm just kidding!).  
_ _I'm sure you've heard by now, but Fred and Lucy both got Sorted into Gryffindor. Teddy and I bet on which Houses they were going to be placed into. I won, obviously.  
_ _Oh, that reminds me! The sixth years had to plan their careers and classes with their Head of House on Monday. It was oddly scary.. I can't believe that in your generation you used to do it in fifth year. I would never have known what I wanted to do back then, even if it was only last year.  
_ _At any rate, I had a chat with Uncle Neville, and he said that being a healer at St. Mungo's is a lot of work. You have to have E's and O's on everything, I swear. The teacher's haven't been letting up on essays, either. I've been piled with tons of homework and it's barely been a week.  
_ _Anyway, all's right in that department. By this time I'm sure you've heard from Louis about Dominique and I. There's no need to worry. We haven't been dueling in hallways, as I'm sure Louis made it out to be. In fact, we haven't even spoken to each other. I keep trying, but she's finding more and more creative ways to avoid me.  
_ _I was the one who taught her how to avoid social conflicts, for Godric's sake!  
_ _At any rate, that's been my week at Hogwarts so far. How's everything doing at home? How about all of the family? Don't spare me any details - I miss home already!  
_ _Love,  
_ _Victoire_

 _P.S. Teddy's been avoiding me as of late (I think he's upset about the whole situation with Dom), but I'm sure he'd have a go at me if I didn't add this, so would you mind telling Lily that Teddy and I say hi?_

Victoire sighed as she finished off her letter with a neat loop, sealing it off and attempting to attach it to the leg of a tawny brown owl.

"Sit.. _still_ ," she told the bird in frustration. It paid no heed to her pleas, however, instead wriggling and pecking at her whenever she got remotely close to it. "I just want _one_ letter delivered, you wretched thing! Is that honestly so hard?"

Before she could attempt to persuade the owl any further, a stifled snicker of amusement sounded behind her. Fully prepared to ward off some giggly, frightened first years, Victoire was suitably surprised to see none other than Teddy Lupin. He was trying (and failing) to look sombre as he stood at the door to the owlery. His hair was not a fun shade of blue, as per normal, but a deep cauldron black instead. It suited him - as did most things with Teddy - but Victoire found herself missing the vibrant, exciting explosion of colours.

"Hi Teddy," she said, trying not to betray her nervousness. Teddy hadn't met spoken to her since Monday, when they'd talked about Dominique. In fact, she was almost positive he'd been avoiding her on purpose. Maybe it was because he was mad at her for confronting Dominique so abruptly. She couldn't help but admit that it stung.

To her surprise, Teddy's face suddenly split into a grin. "Who even uses the word _wretched_ any more?"

Victoire scowled and flushed a deep pink. She wasn't sure whether it was from embarrassment or just pure relief that Teddy had started talking to her again, but she knew that she couldn't let him get off _that_ easily.

"I do," she sniffed indignantly. "Is there a problem with that, Lupin?"

He smirked at her in that familiar, infuriating way of his. "I think you've been hanging around Hermione too much."

They could most likely have gone on in that playful fashion for all eternity, but Victoire still had a burning question on the tip of her tongue.

She crossed her arms. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

He looked appropriately surprised, although she noticed that his ears were turning a very uncharacteristic shade of pink. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Yes, and my mum's a muggle," said Victoire, sarcasm dripping from her words. She shot him a fierce glare. If there was one thing she'd learned from the enormous band that was her family, it was that a Weasley never gave up. "Every time I try to talk to you, you mysteriously have to hurry to class or to bed. I've never seen you hurry to _either_ of those things, so spill, Teddy."

"It's nothing."

They both knew that wasn't the whole truth. She'd known him long enough to tell when he was lying. It wasn't like it was a bad liar, either. He knew how to keep a straight face and an even tone and look her right in the eye. But she could see his dilated pupils, his pink-tinged ears, and the little tendrils of brown hair creeping into the black.

Still, she gave him a smile and clutched her letter closer. One day she'd get the truth out of him, but for now she had more pressing matters at hand. "If it was nothing.. do you think you could possibly make room in your large extension to be friends with me again?"

He rolled his eyes at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We never stopped being friends."

The immediate happiness that bloomed was like a heavy sigh of relief. Merlin knew that Victoire couldn't handle silence from both Dominique and Teddy.

"In that case, do you think you could help me with this… _thing_?" She scowled and pointed at the owl, who somehow managed to look smug.

Teddy laughed out loud, taking the outstretched letter without question and striding over to the owl. He attached the letter to the bird's leg, ruffled it on the head and sent it on it's merry way, all without even a peck of resistance or complaint.

At Teddy's triumphant grin and raised eyebrow, Victoire huffed and crossed her arms. "Owls have it out for me. I think it's the Veela blood." Teddy only guffawed some more, and she reached over to shove him hard. "Get to class, Lupin," she ordered.

He saluted cockily. "Yes, Madame Weasley."

"Prat!" she shouted after him as he stumbled away (gracefulness was not his forte), but only the sound of his chuckles could be heard echoing around the owlery in response.

 **…**

The Great Hall was busy by the time Victoire arrived. It seemed to be about the prime time for breakfast, because the tables were filled with students of varying Houses, all mingling and eating and laughing.

She spotted her friends just as owls started swooping through the windows, carrying letters and parcels to the awaiting recipients. She slid into the spot Nora had saved, trying not to roll her eyes at Abigail and Carrie's latest argument.

"Any mail for me?" she inquired lightly.

"A few," said Nora. She dropped her cereal-heaped spoon to wave some envelopes at Victoire. "I think mostly from your family, though."

Victoire accepted them with thanks, reaching for some toast and jam as she flicked over the addresses. Grandma and Grandpa Weasley, the Potters, and rather oddly, a prettily embroidered note from Tante Gabrielle.

"Who's that from, then?" asked Carrie, interest peaked. "A love letter from your latest admirer, hankering after the unattainable Miss Victoire Weasley?" She swooned dramatically, adding extra emphasis to her words.

"You're a git," Victoire told her promptly. Her friends burst into laughter (even Abigail, and she was _notorious_ for being dry). She opened the letter gently, careful not to rip the extravagant decoration.

"Somebody obviously put a lot of thought into it," Abigail pointed out. She frowned, picking up a long piece of ribbon and studying it intently.

 _Dear Victoire Weasley,_  
 _You are cordially invited to the wedding of_  
Gabrielle Delacour  
 _and_ Philippe Vicente  
 _Saturday the twenty-fifth of September_  
 _at twelve o'clock in the evening_  
 _Château de Bellevue_  
 _Meudon, Paris, France_

Victoire looked up from the card, clearly surprised. "I'm going to a wedding," she said dumbly.

As Nora and Carrie wrestled to look at the invitation, Abby pointed to a slip of paper that had fallen out of the envelope unnoticed, scribbled on in curly, neat scrawls.

"And it looks like you're going to be bridesmaid, too."

 **…**

Victoire hadn't even known Gabrielle was _engaged,_ and now she was going to be a bridesmaid at her wedding?

It wasn't that she wasn't happy for her aunt (because she _was_ ), but more so to do with the fact that she'd never even met this mystery man in the first place. And it might also have been due to the fact that this was, in fact, Gabrielle's third husband to date.

Still, it wasn't like she was unhappy about the decision. A couple of days off of school to dress up and attend festivities in the City of Love? Yes _please_. No school work or grumpy professors to be seen? That was practically heaven. Why shouldn't she take a small holiday and be happy for her aunt?

However, when she'd consulted Carrie about this, she'd merely been advised to bring back a couple of handsome French boys for Carrie to trial.

"Miss Weasley." A sharp voice cut into her thoughts. Victoire jerked up to see the hard stare of Professor Greengrass, potions teacher. She was alright in most terms - Uncle Ron claimed that she was certainly better than the teacher they'd been forced to endure back in their day. For a woman married to Draco Malfoy (hellspawn; from Ron again), she seemed decent enough. However, one thing she did not tolerate was foolishness or lack of attention in her classroom.

"Yes, Professor?" asked Victoire, voice small. All eyes were fixed on her, and a few sniggers erupted from the back of the room. She felt like sinking into the floor and never coming back up again.

"Would you mind repeating Golpallot's Third Law to the class?" Greengrass hovered next to the desk expectantly. Her long black hair swayed behind her.

"Well.." Victoire drew a blank, suddenly scrambling for an answer and panicking when she couldn't find one. She glanced beside her to Carrie for help, but the other girl only shrugged apologetically. Merlin, where was Abigail when you needed her? "Golpallot's Third Law is.."

"That the antidote for a blended poison would be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components," a voice cut in swiftly. She only just managed to suck in her loud sigh of relief as the whole class swivelled to Victoire's saviour.

She was surprised to see that it was not a fellow House mate, but a brown haired, blue-eyed Ravenclaw with a (nice) jawline. She recognised him faintly as Alexander Merriweather, from when her dorm mate Silva Twycross had dated him briefly during third year. She'd seen him play for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, but other than that they'd never really spoken.

Professor Greengrass seemed a little taken aback, but she pursed her lips and nodded. "While that is correct, Mr Merriweather, last time I checked you do not resemble Miss Weasley in any way, shape, or form."

"Sorry Professor." Alexander dipped his head apologetically, but when Greengrass turned around he shot Victoire a smile and a wink.

Feeling surprisingly warm, she smiled in return. _Thanks_ , she mouthed over her shoulder.

 **…**

(Teddy Lupin)

Meanwhile, Teddy was having some problems of his own.

Or more specifically, one problem by the name of Victoire Weasley. He was still trying to grasp what exactly had happened on Monday, and his rather unfortunate realisation about one of his best friends. Sure, he'd noticed she was a girl before. After all, she was a Weasley girl with Veela blood. She tended to get a lot of attention, whether she liked it or not.

He'd known Victoire for practically his whole life. He knew enough embarrassing stories about her to make her flush bright crimson, couldn't possibly count all the times he'd made her so mad she'd had steam coming from her ears (or vice versa, in some occasions). Sixteen years, and not once had Teddy ever thought of her as anything else than his friend.

Until now. And he wasn't sure if he liked it.

"Mr Lupin!" A book slammed onto his desk and he jumped. "Get back to work."

"Sorry sir," Teddy mumbled as Professor Vector strolled away.

He was certain that he was just going through a phase. He couldn't possibly like Victoire. After all, they were practically family.

 **…**

 _Teddy,  
_ _We hope all is going well for you at school? All's fine here at home, although it's startlingly quiet without James. Lily misses him, but I don't quite think Albus can say the same.  
_ _At any rate, I know this letter is a bit early, but we just thought we'd better let you know that we've been invited to a wedding. Do you remember Victoire's aunt, Gabrielle? She's getting married again, and this time in Paris. Can you believe it? Naturally the Weasley-Delacours have been invited, but surprisingly we have too. (personally, I think Gabrielle's still got a thing for Harry, the prig. Can you tell I'm not excited for this event?)  
_ _We were wondering if you'd like to tag along for this event? We've asked your grandmother already, and we're pulling James out of school for a couple of days, so Harry and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to take you out as well. Hermione objected heavily, but you know what she's like with school.  
_ _If you decide to come, please let us know! I've attached the invite underneath, but I'm sure you can ask Victoire, Dominique, or Louis if you have any questions. We look forward to seeing you!  
_ _love,  
_ _your favourite godmother,  
Ginny_

"I don't see why you don't want to go."

Teddy and his friends sat around a table in the library during their free period. Trevor Creevey, with his closely cropped black hair and playful personality, and blonde haired, grey-eyed Winter Daniels. Jamie was off chatting up some pretty brunette, but otherwise Teddy considered the gang to be pretty much together.

Teddy frowned as Winter grabbed for the letter to read it for himself. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, you've got the chance to go to Paris, and you wanna stay here and do school work?" exclaimed Trevor, shaking his head as he munched on a Pumpkin Pasty. Technically food wasn't allowed in the library, but Trevor had never been one to stress over rules.

"Quidditch season's coming up," Teddy tried to reason.

Trevor scoffed. "Yeah, in _November_. That's a right two months from now."

The time Winter cut in, blinking as he handed the letter back. "Jamie won't kill you if you miss out on a few practices," he said.

"You clearly don't know him very well then," joked Trevor.

Teddy rolled his eyes. "It's not Jamie I'm worried about. I don't even care about the school work."

The group let out a laugh as Trevor gasped in mock horror.

The librarian, Esmeralda Sloper, immediately appeared around the corner. She hissed at them to be quiet, fixing them with her deadliest Librarian Glare through her glasses. "This is a _library_ , gentleman," she growled. "Be quiet and study, or be hexed straight through to next Wednesday."

Trevor gave a low whistle as Sloper stalked off, no doubt to scout for her next victim. Teddy shook his head, even though he was grinning from ear to ear, and instead continued their conversation. "It's the Weasleys I'm really scared of."

Winter's brow knitted in confusion. "I thought you were friends with the Weasleys," he said.

"I am!" corrected Teddy. "They're like.. They're almost like family. But things are a little dodgy between me and Dominique right now." He frowned suddenly. "And maybe Victoire. But I'm not sure about her. She's a bit of an odd bird, that one."

"Says you," Trevor snorted. _Charming_ , he could almost hear Victoire say, in the wry tone she saved especially for him and his friends. Trevor leaned forward, looking as if he were about to spill some scandalous gossip. "Half the students here don't think they're odd. Well fit, according to the rumours. I reckon it's the name, y'know? They all want a piece of that Potter fame."

Winter's head lifted from his book. "I think it's the Veela blood. Their mum's quarter Veela, did you know?"

Teddy knew all too well. He'd gotten used to the constant staring whenever he was around the Weasley-Delacours. Ron still jumped a metre high whenever Fleur entered the room unexpectedly, much to Hermione's chagrin. Teddy found it funny, although considerably less when one of the girls decided to dress up prettily. God forbid he ever meet their grandmother, who was half Veela and apparently astonishingly beautiful even in her old age.

"Guys, can we talk about _my_ problems?" he whined impatiently. "I have 'fig next and McGonagall won't be pleased if I miss class again."

Winter took up an expression that suggested he was thinking hard, but Trevor just snapped his book shut with a loud _thump_ and shoved the letter towards Teddy.

"Go on the bloody trip, Ted. If not for yourself, then for me. I can't deal with all these crises," he grumbled loudly.

As if on cue, a loud shriek was heard from around the corner. "That's _enough_! Get _out_ of my library! Out, out, _out_!"

"It ain't your library, Miss," Trevor pointed out. "It's Hogwarts's, innit?"

Before he could do anything worse, like land them in detention with McGonagall, he was hurriedly shushed by Winter and escorted out with his mouth firmly closed.

 **…**

(Nora Clearwater)

It was almost last period, and Nora knew for a fact that she had Arithmancy next. After all, she'd done the responsible thing and memorised her time table. And of course, she'd taken the liberty of remembering everybody else's schedule as well, for insurance purposes.

So this was why, as she wandered her way down to her next classroom, she knew that Gage was supposed to be heading downstairs to the dungeons for Intermediate Level Potions.

 _Not_ making a beeline for her, as he was currently doing.

"Nora! Nory!" Gage broke through the crowd and stopped in front of her with a smug grin, effectively halting her in her steps as they paused in the hallway. This did, of course, stir up plenty of annoyed looks from the students trying to get past.

"Gage." She smiled at him, hugging her books to her chest happily. "Has Peeves blown up the dungeons again?"

"No," said Gage without further explanation. He leaned down expectantly. "Aren't you forgetting something, Nors?"

"Sorry." She leant up on her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. To her surprise, he seemed a little disappointed.

"That's all I get?"

"We _are_ in the middle of the hallway," she pointed out, "and I _do_ have class in about.. five minutes."

Like she'd been summoned, Abigail appeared at her side, breaking off from the crowd. "Hey Nora." She pulled a face. "Hi… Gage. Are you coming to class, Nora?"

When Gage's arms snaked around her waist, Nora threw Abigail an apologetic look. "I won't be a minute," she promised. "Save me a seat? And take my books with you?"

"Sure, lump me with all your stuff," Abigail grumbled good-naturedly. She juggled the excessive amount of books she now had in her arms. "I'll see you later."

Abigail had barely been gone a minute when Gage pulled her into a proper kiss, threading his fingers through her chocolate curls.

"That was lovely," she told them as they pulled apart, "but I have to go to class now."

"Oh, come on. You don't need class, do you? Stay out with me." Gage smiled so winningly, Nora almost crumbled.

"But.. I'll get in trouble," said Nora dumbly, eyes wide.

"So? It's only one measly little hour. What harm could it do?" Gage asked. His fingers tangled through hers, no doubt to help persuade her. "Besides, you've been neglecting me recently. You ought to be a better girlfriend."

That wasn't true, Nora _knew_ it wasn't true. When she wasn't with her friends or in class or sleeping, she was with Gage. They'd spent so much time together that she'd forgotten what life without Gage Notts was like. _Still_.. she debated, suddenly feeling worry gnawing at her stomach. Maybe she _was_ being a bad girlfriend. Would Gage break up with her? He wouldn't.. would he?

"I suppose one hour couldn't hurt," she conceded slowly, even though Nora Clearwater had never done anything remotely rebellious in her life, let alone skipped a whole period of class. "Arithmancy is quite boring."

Gage grinned. "Atta-girl."

 **…**

(Victoire Weasley)

Victoire made her way down from the last class of the day, immediately brightening up as she spotted Abigail and Carrie coming back from their own classes. Upon spotting her, they waved her over and waited for Victoire to catch up.

"Where's Nora?" Victoire asked curiously, looking around for their caramel-skinned friend.

"Yeah, I thought she had Arithmancy with you," agreed Carrie, giving Abigail a friendly nudge.

Oddly, Abigail seemed rather glum. "She did. Only she didn't show up. I had to partner up with McLaggen. He ' _accidentally'_ spilt pumpkin juice on me. We don't even use pumpkin juice in Arithmancy!"

Victoire tutted sympathetically. McLaggen was a Ravenclaw sixth year. He might have been intelligent, but he was sleazy at his finest, and he had an attitude so pompous that anyone with a working brain was repelled away.

Carrie, however, seemed less then sorry. "Where's Nora then?" She promised me we'd go down to the pitch and practice a bit. Don't say she's gone and bailed on me!"

"She won't have bailed on you," said Victoire, confident in her assumption. Nora, while sometimes a little ditzy, was never late for anything. She had an odd mannerism in which she liked to learn everybody's schedule. According to Nora, it was so she knew when it was a good time to steal somebody away, but Victoire just found it amusing. "If Nora wasn't in class, she was probably pulled out to talk to a teacher or something. Routine check, maybe? You know Nora."

"Maybe.." Abigail considered doubtfully.

Carrie bit her lip, obviously frustrated. "Look, maybe I should just - "

Suddenly, a loud commotion interrupted her, further down the corridor. Immediately the scores of students wandering the corridors surged towards the drama like moths to a flame. The three were no exception, Victoire and Abigail lagging behind after their athletically-inclined friend.

They rounded the corner, only what they saw was met with obvious surprise. Being reprimanded by Professor McGonagall was none other than Nora Clearwater and Gage Notts.

"When I received notice of two students missing class, I did not think that I would find it to be you, Miss Clearwater. I'm sorely disappointed in you," McGonagall said sternly. "As for you, Mr Notts, I'm sure that you are aware that this has not been your first rodeo. However, dragging Miss Clearwater along with you is most unacceptable."

"Sorry, Professor," said Nora and Gage together. Nora looked genuinely upset, voice small as she stared down at her feet. Clearly, being watched by all these students wasn't helping either.

McGonagall opened her mouth to say more, but Professor Ellwood (DADA teacher) stepped forward and patted her consolingly on the arm. "They can serve detention with me. The trophies room is in dire need of cleaning. I'm afraid that both of you are going to miss out on your Quidditch practice. Rather disappointing, seeing as you are both valuable players - the seeker and the captain."

"But Professor," Gage protested loudly, but Ellwood seemed content to ignore him.

"You're both dismissed. Go and wait in my office, please."

"Thank you, Padma," McGonagall said as Ellwood lead her back to the former's office. "I think it's about time for me to retire."

"Good luck," Victoire murmured to Nora as she walked past, but the other girl refused to meet her eye.

"I knew Notts was rotten," Abigail fumed as soon as they were out of earshot and the excited buzz of students had drifted away once again. Carrie nodded in agreement, but Victoire shook her head, feeling oddly guilty.

"Maybe it was an accident," she suggested.

"Please," Carrie raised her eyebrows, "as if they just _happened_ to have missed an entire class."

"But that's not like Nora," mused Victoire worriedly.

"People do stupid things when pressured," said Abigail evenly. "It's a proven fact."

"Maybe…" But Victoire was still rather unconvinced. She didn't know why Nora skipping class had bothered her so much. It was hardly the worst thing that had happened in Hogwarts history. But for some odd reason it just rubbed her the wrong way. Nora was the sweet one! She'd never broken a rule in her life!

"Great, now I've got to practice Quidditch without her," Carrie groaned, but Victoire hardly paid her friends any attention, because someone familiar had caught her eye.

"Hey, I'll see you later," she said distractedly, not sticking around to listen to Abigail and Carrie's confused protests. She hoisted her books up a little higher in her grasp and approached the Ravenclaw boy with a smile already prepared.

"Hi Alexander," she announced her presence, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

Alexander Merriweather glanced up quickly, obviously surprised to see her. "Oh hey, Victoire."

Without quite thinking, Victoire blurted out: "How do you know my name?"

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "You're a Weasley. I think practically the whole Wizarding World knows who you are."

Victoire flushed in embarrassment, and immediately cursed herself for doing so. She _was_ a Weasley - what was she doing blushing madly like she'd just seen her grandmother naked? Making an immediate point to try and come back to herself, she held her head high and promptly said: "Sorry."

 _Nailed it._

To her surprise, Alexander merely laughed friendlily. "No, it's fine! At least you don't brag about it like.. erm.. someone I know."

Victoire rolled her eyes, although her lips were curved in amusement. "If you mean James, it's alright. He's a git, but he has good intentions. When he's not being an incessant prat, that is - just, don't tell him I said any of that. Don't want his head getting any bigger than it already is."

Alexander laughed again, and Victoire silently congratulated herself. "My lips are sealed," he said, eyeing the books she was struggling not to let slip out of her grasp. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Miss Weasley?"

"Oh, I just wanted to say thank you," she said hurriedly. "For helping me back with Greengrass, that is. I tried to stop you after Potions, but you looked like you were in a hurry and I didn't want to make you late for the next period."

Alexander looked faintly surprised at being thanked (although she liked to think he looked pleased, too). "It's no worries, honestly."

"No, I want to thank you!" pressed Victoire. "It's just, I'm horrible at Potions and I had a lot on my mind and I thought I was going to get detention for sure, but you practically saved my life so thank you."

"Well - I mean - I could tutor you, if you liked," Alexander offered unexpectedly. Victoire paused and studied him to see if he was joking. Not once in her life had she ever been offered tutoring. Everyone seemed to think that because she was a Weasley child she was perfect, but there was a reason she hadn't been placed in Ravenclaw.

"Wait - really?"

Alexander nodded, digging his hands into his pocket. "I mean, if that's alright with you. I know working with a Ravenclaw might be counted as enemy fraternization or something but I assure you I have no evil intentions. But only if you want to," he added hurriedly.

"No, no, that sounds great!" Victoire nodded before she could really think too hard about it. "I really need the extra work, to be honest, especially with NEWTS."

"Tell me about it," said Alexander seriously. "Well, I have Quidditch practice on Wednesdays and Saturdays, unless my captain changes her mind. Other than that my schedule's free."

"I have Charms Club on Tuesdays and DADA on Thursdays," she informed him, "but any other day is great."

"Should we trial it on Saturday, then?" he asked. "After Hogsmeade, of course."

"Oh - right!" Victoire nodded earnestly. She'd completely forgotten about the first weekend trip down to Hogsmeade, although now that she had been reminded a swirl of excitement rushed through her. This would be her third year of going down, but she knew James was beyond excited for his first official visit (although she had a sneaking suspicion that he'd snuck down to the village before). "So, is five o'clock alright then?" she inquired politely.

"Sounds good to me."

The two shared a grin, and then Alexander was called away by his impatient friends, waving apologetically at her as he left.

As soon as he'd gone, Carrie and Abigail had advanced up to her. Carrie looked childishly excited, while Abby harboured a more reserved look.

"Victoire!" Carrie grinned widely, shoving her in the shoulder. "Just wait until I tell Nora about this!" Obviously she had forgotten about being mad at Nora for not being able to make it to Quidditch practice.

Abigail gave Victoire a once-over, and suddenly Victoire felt a little self-conscious.

"What?" she said hurriedly.

"Nothing." Abigail shrugged, looking thoughtful. "Since when did you start getting cosy with Merriweather?"

"I wasn't _getting cosy_ with him," Victoire said defensively. She started walking very quickly, so that Abigail and Carrie were forced to hurry after her at an untimely pace. "We were just talking."

"Mhmm." Abigail looked unconvinced. "If you say so."

"Talking? About what?" Carrie pressed.

"Tutoring lessons," Victoire mumbled, suddenly flushing lightly. It wasn't exactly a secret that she was disastrous at potions, but it still felt embarrassing and degrading to say it aloud, all the same. "He said that he would help me with Potions."

"In exchange for what?"

Victoire shot Abigail a sharp look, getting increasingly more annoyed with her friend's scepticism. "Not everybody has an agenda, Abby. He didn't want anything in return. He was just being friendly."

"Everybody wants something in return," cited Abigail smoothly.

Victoire ground to a stop and whirled to face Abigail, finally snapping. She was tired and stressed about the whole Dominique situation, not to mention the wedding that was coming up shortly. Couldn't she have the simple pleasure of something nice without backlash?

"Maybe in your world, Abigail. But not in mine," she said nastily and stalked off, immediately regretting her words but too stubborn to turn around and apologise.

 **…**

(Teddy Lupin)

It was dinnertime by the time Teddy, Trevor and Winter saw Jamie again. He came down and took a seat next to Winter with a nod and a small smile of greeting to his friends.

"So, how'd it go with Shaeya Lockhouse?" Trevor asked cheekily.

Teddy stifled his laughter as he scooped a helping of mashed potato and peas onto his plate. Jamie chose a portion of chicken and leek pie, rolling his eyes heavily.

"Her name's Freya Lofthouse," he corrected, "and she's fine. Kind of dull, though. I don't think it's going to last very long."

"She's right fit, though," Trevor pointed out.

"Haven't you run out of girls to date yet?" asked Winter, blinking innocently as if he truly was curious.

Teddy really did snort this time, and Trevor had to thump him on the back hard to stop him from choking.

"Haha," Jamie said drily. '"Yes, very funny, Teddy. Isn't it funny that I don't see any of you with a girlfriend?"

"Oi!" said Trevor in indignation. "I'm getting there, mate. Callidora Fincher? She was _totally_ eyeing me up in Charms today."

"You mean she was staring in horror at the rat you'd somehow managed to give eight legs and fangs," corrected Winter, a soft smile curling his lips.

"Whatever." Trevor shrugged it off, clearly unfazed as he stole a chip from Winter's plate of fish and chips. "Anyway, have you made your mind up about that trip, Tedmeister?"

Jamie looked up from his plate. His eyebrows raised in curiousness. "What trip?"

"Teddy's been invited to a wedding with the Potters," Winter explained. "You know Victoire and her siblings? Yeah, well their aunt's getting married in Paris and she wants them to come along. Only he's not sure if he wants to go because he's in a tiff with Dominique and maybe Victoire."

"Wow, you guys actually listened to my whining." Teddy blinked, genuinely surprised.

"If you're worried, why don't you just go and talk to Victoire?" asked Jamie. He nodded to the Gryffindor table and Teddy, following his line of vision to see the eldest Weasley herself sitting all alone and looking rather irritated as she alternated between stabbing at her bowl of ice cream and reading a book.

"It's not that simple," he protested, but soon enough he was sliding into the seat next to hers anyway.

"Hi Teddy," she greeted sulkily.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and reached to examine her book, which read _101 Magical Remedies For Beginners._ "Something wrong? You're not mad at me, right?" he worried suddenly.

"No."

Surprised by her curt response - Victoire was never blunt - he offered a friendly smile. "What's it about, then?"

Victoire dropped her spoon into her bowl with a loud huff. "Well, I was so busy thinking about Tante Gabrielle's wedding in Potions that I got called out by Greengrass, who asked me to answer a question but I couldn't, only Alexander Merriweather stepped in for me and I got out of trouble. Then I stopped him later to thank him and he offered me tutoring lessons and I accepted and then Nora got put in detention and I feel like Carrie and Abigail are judging me because I'm so terrible at Potions, so I was really mean at them and now I've got no friends."

All this was said so quickly that it came out in one blurred word rather than a paragraph, and for a few moments he was silent as he tried to process it. Then, unexpectedly, he started to laugh, which was obviously the wrong move as proved when Victoire picked up her book and thwacked him with a strength that was _totally_ not fair for a girl who played no sport.

"You - are - not - helping - in - the - slightest - Edward - Lupin," she said fiercely in between hits.

"Ow, okay - stop, I'm sorry!" he managed, holding his arms up in defence, even though he was still grinning. "I wasn't laughing at _you_ , honest."

"What were you laughing about, then?" Victoire fixed him with a stony glare.

"Just - um - nothing," he said rapidly, his previous words fading as he saw her expression. Eager to change the conversation, he added in surprise, "wait, Clearwater has detention?"

Victoire nodded, seeming relieved by the change in subject. "She got caught by McGonagall skiving class with Notts."

"Notts? As in, Quidditch Captain Notts?"

"That's the one."

"Blimey." He considered it for a second. "Clearwater's the goody-two-shoes, right?"

"Mhmm," Victoire nodded.

Teddy would have been perfectly content to just sit there and talk about Victoire's problems all day, but a vigorous thumbs up from Trevor forced him to take action. Sighing begrudgingly, he leaned forward on the table. "So, about this wedding…"

"Oh, yes!" Victoire brightened. "My aunt's throwing a wedding in Paris and we're invited, obviously." She suddenly pulled a face, picking at the sprinkles on her ice cream. "I'm sure it'll be boring, though, especially since Dom's still furious with me. I wish you could come."

"That's the thing.." Teddy said slowly, "I've kind of.. sort of been invited to tag along with the Potters."

Victoire's smile suddenly grew about a million times bigger. "Really? That's great! It'll be so much better now that you're coming… You _are_ coming, aren't you?"

Teddy shrugged, an apologetic smile on his face. "I don't know if I'd really be welcome.."

"Of course you'd be welcome!" she said insistently, her fury at him apparently long forgotten. "You're Teddy Lupin, aren't you? Golden boy of our generation and all. Everybody loves you, Teddy. If anybody tries to tell you otherwise, I'm sure the Potters will happily beat them up."

He laughed, and sitting there in the Great Hall, it was decided. If Victoire wanted him to go to the wedding, he supposed that he would.


End file.
